Lullabies
by Lucy H
Summary: [Holby City] Diane's troubles mean she has to turn to Ric. [unfinished]
1. Chapter 1

"It's me," he told her as she answered the phone. The serious tone in his voice alerted her to the fact that this was a phone call with a purpose.

"Hey you," she replied, as flirtatiously as she dared, swallowing a lump in her throat and trying to sound breezy. She had a fair idea what the subject of this phone call would be about, and she _really_ did not want to broach the subject. Flirt with him, she told herself, dispel the serious note in his voice, and convince him that you're fine; you're always fine.

She heard him pause in confusion, as he tried to understand why she was flirting with him. She smiled inwardly; she'd bought herself some time at least, a few precious moments to think up an excuse, as he tried to process the fact that she was flirting with him for some reason. "Are you alright?" he asked her, eventually. 

"Fine," she replied, dismissively, hoping that these were just the polite pleasantries at the beginning of a conversation. "You?"

"Good, yeah," he dismissed it instantly. "I mean it. Are you alright? I've missed you these past few days."

She allowed herself a brief smile at the knowledge that he missed her, before turning to the matter at hand. "I'm fine…" she insisted, even though it didn't quite ring true, even to her ears. 

"You took a week off work! Either you were skiving…"

"I could've been…"

"Or you've been ill," he continued, ignoring her interruption. "And I've never known you to slack off, not for one day, let alone a week, so surely you can understand that I'm concerned?"

She sighed, biting her lip as she tried to decide what she should tell him. "I… I just, I've not been feeling too well these past few days, that's all. I didn't think you'd want me to come into work, not if I had the flu…"

"You don't _sound_ as though you've got the flu," he replied, suspiciously. "You're not telling me everything here, are you?"

"Well, you know me, I'm a woman of mystery," she joked, forcing a laugh. It was forced, and it sounded forced. She'd never been good at hiding her feelings from him. 

"No, you're a terrible liar," he corrected her. "What's the matter? Tell me, I want to help if something's wrong…"

"It's nothing," she told him, making every effort to sound carefree and cheerful. "I had the flu or gastroenteritis or something…"

He sighed. "If you can't tell the difference between the flu and gastro…" 

"Look, Ric, I'm a busy woman, I've got a million and one things I need to do, yeah? I'll be in tomorrow, I promise." She bit her lip as she heard how harsh she sounded, but she couldn't apologise for that now.

There was a stunned silence before he spoke. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Diane." He sounded hurt, and she mentally kicked herself for snapping at him like that. But… if he knew, if he knew, then he'd understand. 

"Bye," she said softly, before hanging the phone up and sinking down to the floor, feeling herself beginning to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

The beeping of the alarm clock was totally unnecessary: she had barely slept all night. She'd lain for ten hours, drifting from fitful sleep to even more fitful wakefulness, regretting her decision to go back to work, regretting how she had spoken to him, regretting… everything.

She stumbled out of bed, not even bothering to flinch as her feet touched the cold wooden floor. Truth be told, she barely even noticed it. The icy floor was nothing like the block of ice that seemed to have settled inside her.

Not bothering with breakfast, she allowed herself longer than usual for getting dressed. If she looked good enough, then maybe no one would notice how she was feeling. Society is superficial; as long as you look passable, then you're bound to be fine. That was what she was counting on as she applied her make-up with a shaking hand, as she carefully selected clothes, as she combed and straightened her hair, taking as much care as she could with it. 

She turned away from the mirror after longer than normal, and was comfortably conscious that she looked… fine. Her make-up was heavier than usual, but at least that way she could avoid comments such as "You look like you haven't slept in a week!" Which was true. But she still didn't want to hear it.

Managing to quell the slight feeling of nausea and dizziness that came with not having eaten, she left for work in a daze. A daze of confusion, each part of her giving her contradicting views on going into work. 

You should've stayed at home. 

You'd have to face them sooner or later, it's better that it's sooner.

Later would've given you more time to prepare. 

Get it over with. 

Turn around now. 

She turned on the radio… anything so that she wouldn't have to think, to think these endless conflicting thoughts that she couldn't drown out, no matter how hard she tried. Maybe being around people, real people, not just the voices in the radio or the cheery presenters of daytime television, maybe that would help. She hoped so, oh God she hoped so.

And, the moment she arrived at work, it seemed like that might be the case. She first thing she heard was Ric's voice shouting. "Diane, we need you over here!"

"What?" she asked, spinning around to see what was going on. 

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the side. "I'm sorry to drop you in at the deep end the moment you came back…" And was it her imagination or did he still seem concerned? Was the expression in his eyes more than just the frantic need of the consultant to find someone, anyone, to delegate to? Was he searching her face, looking for signs that everything was not alright? Was he finding them?

"No, no, it's okay," she insisted, smiling falsely. "What is it?"

"Are you okay to take control of this one?" he asked her, pulling her nearer to the wall as a trolley was wheeled down the corridor. 

"Sure, just fill me in…" She hoped that he hadn't noticed how she had stiffened at the beginning of the sentence… "Are you okay…?" She hadn't wanted to go into depth on how she was, and she was glad that – so far – he hadn't pushed the issue.

"Fifty-year-old woman, brought in after an RTA…" She pushed her own concerns to the back of her mind and let Ric's voice fill her mind, let herself be captured by what he was telling her. Her job, and she loved it.

Just before he walked away, he took hold of her arm gently. "Are you alright?" he asked her, concern showing in his eyes. 

She shook him off. "I'm fine, Ric." 

"Sure?"

"Amazingly." She smiled falsely, knowing in her heart that he wasn't convinced. She never wore as much make-up as she was doing that day, and however unobservant he was, there was no way that he could bypass the fact that she was dressed with a lot more care than normal. But it was all for a reason, she told herself, and she'd tell him when she told him. That would be soon enough.

"Diane," Zubin greeted her, smiling as he walked past. "Where have you been this past week?"

"At home," she replied, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions. 

"Skiving?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. 

"No!" She bit her lip and sighed as she realised that she'd snapped, yet again. "Sorry Zube, it's complicated. I'll explain – to both of you," she added, for Ric's benefit, "another time. I promise."

Zubin looked at her curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Really, I'm fine." She smiled brightly. "So… this patient, theatre, let's go."

But as she was scrubbing up for theatre, she began to get a feeling that she wasn't fine. To block the feeling from her mind, she chattered incessantly, asking Zubin about his week, about Sahar, about other people at the hospital… anything and everything. She didn't want to know really, but she wanted to block the dizziness from her mind, to dispel the ringing in her ears.

"So why can't Ric do this one, then?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the blood pounding around her body.

"No need to shout," he told her, smiling slightly as he washed his hands. "He's got a full list today, and you're more than capable…"

She smiled in spite of herself – she never objected to praise, especially not about her surgical skills. Zubin continued talking about Ric's full list, but she could barely hear him… his words were just that: words, noise, indistinct. She clutched onto the table to keep herself steady, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself.

"Zube…" she managed to say, as she felt herself reeling. She couldn't hear herself above the ringing in her ears, but it was loud enough for him to hear. He turned to look at her, and was next to her immediately, his arm around her to keep her from falling. 

"Okay…" he told her, soothingly, as he led her to a chair and made her tilt her head downwards. "Deep breaths, Diane. Are you alright?"

The world – her feet – slowly began to come back into focus, and she nodded. "I don't know what just happened there," she replied weakly, as she lifted her head up and gave a slight laugh. 

"I don't think you need me to tell you that you nearly passed out," he joked, as he stood up. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I…" She paused, needing to think hard about that question. "I've not been hungry," she told him feebly. 

"Hungry or not, I think you need something to eat." He helped her up, before reaching in his pocket and handing her a few pound coins. "Go and get yourself something to eat – I'll page Richard Smedley if I have to."

"Zube, I'm okay, I can do this…" she insisted, trying to give the money back to him. "And I have money of my own, y'know. I'm not Ric," she added with a slight smile.

"Maybe you _can_ do this, but I'm not going to let you – and I mean that as a friend, not as a consultant," he added, smiling. "You've been away for a week and you're obviously not completely well yet, so take it easy – get something to eat, and come back when you're feeling better. We can manage without you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Zubin." She allowed him to open the door for her and practically push her through. The moment she'd walked through the door, she leant against the wall, and closed her eyes.

Don't be so stupid, Diane. Pull yourself together.


	3. Chapter 3

She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, a look of confusion and worry on his face. "Diane?" he asked, concernedly putting an arm around her.

She moved away. "I'm fine," she replied automatically. "I just felt a bit… queasy. Zubin told me to get something to eat," she added, by way of explanation for not being in theatre. "But I'm fine," she repeated, trying to convince herself if not Ric. "I really am."

"You don't look it," he told her.

She grimaced at him. "Thank you, Ric." Inside, she was worried. If people could see that she looked unwell… maybe she really was ill. No, she was never ill. It was impossible; she couldn't be ill. She was a doctor, she never got ill… She tried to push it to the back of her mind, and began to walk away. "I'm going to get something to eat, I'll see you…"

He began to follow her. "Wait a moment, Diane. I've got twenty minutes free, would you mind if I came with you? I'd like to talk to you – if you don't mind, that is," he added, noticing how tense she looked.

"Why would I mind?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "You're my best friend." But she did mind. She had a feeling that he would never take "I'm fine" as a final answer – he understood her too well. And he would want to know the truth. 

"I just meant, if you wanted to be alone… or something…" 

Now would have been the ideal opportunity to tell him that she didn't want him to go with her. She could have just said, "Yeah, I've got a lot on my mind," and she was debating doing just that, when she heard herself tell him, "No, I don't mind." It would be easier to avoid his questions than to brush her best friend off.

He smiled; if he was surprised by her easy acceptance, he didn't show it, and she was grateful for that. He looked curiously at her as he passed her. "You're wearing a lot of make-up today, aren't you?"

She looked at him incredulously. "And since when do you care about my make-up?" That was the best way to deal with it. Change the subject. 

He shrugged. "You just seem to be wearing a lot today…" He put an arm around her as they were walking. She stiffened but didn't move away. "Do you have a date or something?"

She laughed, partly out of relief that that was what he thought. "No… no, I'm off dating for now." 

"Oh? And why is that?" he queried, pushing open the door to the canteen. 

"No reason." She let him buy her a meal and allowed herself to be pushed towards a table, where he sat her down. 

"Eat." He sat down opposite her and smiled. "I'm exhausted," he told her, leaning back in his chair. "This past week has been hell without you here."

"Glad to know I'm missed." She broke off a piece of bread and nibbled at it. She didn't have an appetite, and the mere thought of food made her feel sick, but she didn't dare tell him that, so she tried to look as though she was eating, hoping that he would be fooled and accept that she had eaten. "Y'know, I wasn't just taking a week off for pleasure, Ric, I was actually ill."

"What was the matter?" he asked, truly concerned, reaching out to touch her arm gently.

She shook her head. "I told you yesterday…" she said, hoping he would drop it, but knowing inside that he wouldn't.

"No, yesterday you fobbed me off with excuses. Diane, talk to me, tell me what the matter is." He looked genuinely concerned, and at any other time, she would have been touched by his concern, and willing to drown in the sympathy in his deep brown eyes. But not today. Today she needed to concentrate on not breaking down.

"Nothing. Really, Ric, it's nothing." She shook her head, looking down at her plate as she broke off another piece of bread.

"The last time you told me that, you were pregnant," he told her. "Diane, you're hiding something. What is it?" He looked at her, placing his hand over hers. "You're not… you're not pregnant again, are you?"

She found herself laughing at the absurdity of that. "No, God no, Ric!" She bit her lip to stop herself laughing, and found herself almost ready to cry at the memory of last year. "Thank God." She still regretted that – every part of it, she regretted. She regretted going out with Steve, she regretted dumping him so quickly, she regretted being so hasty about her pregnancy, she regretted not asking Ric to be there during her termination… she regretted thinking she was strong enough, when she'd known all along that she wasn't.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reminded you…"

"No, no, it's okay…" She sighed, blinking furiously as she looked down at her plate. "Ric, it's complicated, okay?"

"Diane, I care about you a lot…" He sighed. "Let me in, let me help you."

"Ric…" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him. Please let me be. Please help me without me having to tell you what the matter is. Please hold me in your arms and make it all better for me. Please hold me forever, sing me lullabies at night so that I fall asleep without the nightmares, be there every moment with me to give me the strength to cope…

He smiled at her, his eyes meeting hers and telling her that he cared – more than he normally let on. "I'm not going to push you, Diane."

She nodded gratefully. "Thank you. Because it _is_ nothing, Ric, it's just me over-reacting."

"Diane Lloyd, I have known you for years, and never once in all that time have I known you to over-react. Underestimate yourself, maybe. But never over-react." His grip on her hand tightened, and he stroked her fingers with his thumb gently.

"I don't… I'm over-reacting this time, there's a first time for everything, Ric. I'm just being silly, I'm worrying myself ill about something that's probably not even real, not something to worry about…" Her words were spilling out: she was trying to convince herself more than him, but she wasn't convincing either of them.

The concern on his face had never been more pronounced. "Diane, you're scaring me, sweetheart. What is it?"

She briefly noted his use of the word 'sweetheart', even though he hadn't seemed to, and allowed herself a brief smile. "Ric! It's nothing. Really," she insisted, quietly, looking around the canteen. She forced her lips to curve into a smile, though she felt more like crying.

He moved his chair around to her side of the table, never letting go of her hand. "Diane…"

She needed no encouragement to move closer to him, and he put a protective arm around her. "It's nothing," she insisted feebly, knowing that she wasn't fooling him. 

"Diane, please… let me in, let me be a part of this…"

She bit her lip. "Ric, I… I think I…" She trailed off. "I can't say it." She buried her head in his shoulder, not wanting to look at him.

"Diane, whatever it is, I'm not going to walk away, I'm not going to let you deal with this on your own."

"I've got to go," she blurted out, standing up hurriedly and beginning to rush out. He caught onto her arm. "Please Ric, I can't…"

"You can't go through this on your own, it's obviously upsetting you."

She nodded. She wanted to tell him, she ached for him to know, to be able to help her through it, but she just couldn't quite form the words to tell him, because saying it – that would make it true. Quickly, before her courage failed her, she spoke. "I think I've got cancer, Ric. I found a lump in my breast. I think I've got cancer."


	4. Chapter 4

Lullabies, part 4 

"Oh Diane…" He took her into his arms and let her bury her head in his shoulder, where she began to cry, crying out of sheer relief that she had finally told him. He held her tight, stroking her back and trying in vain to comfort her, when he knew that there was no way that he could.

As he held her, he looked around the canteen, anxiously searching the faces of the people there, hoping that the crying woman in his arms wasn't attracting too much attention. But, in a hospital, no one pays attention to others. Everyone is preoccupied with their own problems: their illnesses, their relatives, friends, lying ill. As he looked around, he saw that Diane was by no means the only person crying. He stroked her hair gently. "Shush…" he whispered. 

Her arms were around his waist, her face hidden by his shoulder, and she felt slightly safer, just being there. She couldn't face moving, she never wanted to lift her head and see his pitying expression, see that he was not quite sure how to treat her. Because of course he would look like that. Suddenly she wasn't just his best friend, she was his sick best friend. 

"It's okay…" he whispered into her hair, feeling her sobs begin to subside. 

"I don't… I – I'm sorry…" she mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm being stupid…" Slowly, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ric…"

"Sorry?" he repeated, confused. "Diane, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. Nothing at all." He sat down again, pulling her down with him. She sat, half on his lap, looking uncertainly at him.

"I'm sorry for breaking down on you like that," she told him. "I shouldn't have said anything…"

"What would you rather have done, kept it to yourself? You can't hide from this, Diane," he said, stroking her hair gently again, trying to reassure her that he was going to stick around. "Is that why you took the week off? Trying to hide?" he asked, quietly.

She shook her head. "No… I just, I couldn't face it, I honestly couldn't, Ric." She didn't mention that, for the first few days, she had barely bothered to get up. She had lain in bed or on the sofa, watching mind-numbing daytime television and trying to block all of her thoughts out. She had drifted, tears on her cheeks, from the bedroom to the bathroom to the bedroom again, ignoring the phone when it rang. The extent of her communication with the outside world had been a single text message to Zubin – Ric would've asked too many questions – on the first day. "Not in for a few days, feeling sick." 

"So you were trying to hide," he repeated. "Diane, I know it's your defence mechanism, I know that you run, you hide from whatever you don't feel you can cope with."

"Don't sit there and judge me!" she retorted, indignantly. "It's my life, Ric, and I'll deal with it how I want to!" She stood up and began to back away, but he began to follow her, and put an arm around her. 

He stroked her hair again, trying to calm her. "Diane, sweetie, I didn't say it was wrong. I just – I don't think that you can hide from this one. You can't pretend that nothing's wrong." He hated having to tell her that, he hated having to tell her that she might have a very serious illness. Cancer… it was such a definite word, such a terrifying word. As a doctor, he'd heard it, they'd both heard it, thousands if not millions of times before, but this was different. This was Diane. And cancer was something that happened to people he didn't know – it was something that happened to the never-ending rotation of patients who came in through his door everyday, but not to the bright young woman who stood next to him in theatre, not to his best friend, not to the woman he loved but didn't dare ask out, not to Diane.

She nodded. "I don't… Ric, I don't want this to be happening…" Her eyes were filled with tears again, and he hastened to rub her back gently, trying to comfort her. 

"Diane, Diane, you need to calm down."

"Calm down? Ric, I can't, I can't, I absolutely cannot…" Her voice was becoming strangled with the tears that she was trying to suppress. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat before continuing. "Ric, please… I can't do this, I…"

He sat down, pulling her down with him. "Diane… Diane, it's okay…"

"It's not okay, it's not, how can you say it is?" Her words were tumbling over one another, wanting desperately for him to tell her that it was going to be okay, that he had a miracle cure for her.

He nodded. "You have a point." He sighed. "Diane, you need to get it checked out, you know that, don't you?"

There was a silence. Diane laid her head against Ric's shoulder and bit her lip anxiously. "I know." But doing something, by doing something, she would be admitting that there was something wrong. She sighed. "I just… I don't want to think about it."

He stroked her hair gently. "I know…" He smiled at her, before looking pointedly at her plate. "You've not eaten anything."

She glanced down at her plate before looking back up at him. "That's not food, Ric." She forced a smile. "I'm not hungry."

"Hungry or not, you need to eat…" he began.

"That's what Zubin said." She bit her lip and smiled up at him. 

"Hopefully you'll trust the both of us then?" he teased, as he began to stand up. "Diane, I've got to go… but there's no way I'm letting you work, not today…"

"Ric, I can do this, I'm fine, honestly I am," she insisted. "Please, Ric, let me take my mind off this…"

He sighed, hating depriving her of her chance to take her mind off her problems. "Diane, sweetie, you're not in the right frame of mind, are you? Tell me honestly, do you think you could work today?"

She smiled reluctantly and grabbed onto his hands. "Maybe not. But Ric, I don't want to be alone…" She didn't want to go back to the silent flat, where the only sound was her crying, where her fears echoed off every surface, where her worries were magnified and grew out of all proportion…

"I'm not going to send you home," he told her, stroking her hair again, and smiling. "I just don't want you operating today."

She smiled gratefully. "Paperwork then?"

"I've got plenty if you feel like giving it a go…" he said, returning her smile. "Just go sit in my office, do whatever you please, and I'll send Zubin up to talk to you when he's done. How does that sound?"

"Pretty good," she replied, standing up. 

He smiled. "I'll walk with you," he offered, standing up himself and putting an arm around her.

"I think I know the way," she teased him, leaning her head against his shoulder and feeling better about herself. She smiled up at him, and laughed as he stopped at a vending machine. "Hungry?"

"No, but I think you are," he retorted, handing her a chocolate bar. "Eat." 

She smiled and bit into the chocolate, feeling grateful that Ric had been so accepting, that he hadn't asked unnecessary questions, that he hadn't panicked or left her to deal with it on her own, that he had just treated her like Diane, not like a patient. He'd just been Ric, and that was what she needed – Ric, her best friend. 

He watched her, trying to notice any signs of her feeling unwell, of her looking ill, looking unlike the Diane he knew and loved. All he could see was that she was slightly paler than normal, that she'd been crying. Other than that, she looked just like Diane. But she was ill, she could be so ill, and he had to watch her and see her be so ill… and she was Diane. His best friend. He couldn't lose her. And all of his own feelings for her began to build up, as he whispered an excuse to her and ran towards the toilets, locking himself in a cubicle and letting himself cry. For her.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5 

"Diane?" Zubin knocked quietly on the door of Ric's office and pushed it open. 

Diane looked up from the paperwork that she had been trying to do, and smiled faintly in greeting. "Hey Zube." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and hoped that she looked vaguely presentable. She had spent the past hour trying in vain to tidy Ric's desk and finish some admissions forms that he should have done the previous week. For a few moments at a time, she'd been able to immerse herself in filling in the mind-numbingly boring forms, and forget about her problems. But then, once she had put the form to one side, they'd come flooding back into her mind, taking over every part of her brain until she was almost screaming.

"Are you alright?" he asked, placing his hands on the desk and smiling down at her, looking concerned.

She bit her lip and forced herself to smile more brightly. "Fine thanks."

"You don't look it," he told her, sitting himself on the desk. "And if you're fine, how come both you and Ric seem to have been crying?"

She recoiled in her chair as though he had hit her. "Ric was crying?" she repeated quietly, shocked. Ric, no, not Ric. Not her Ric, he never cried… was he crying over her? Had she made him feel that bad? Was it wrong to offload onto him?

Zubin looked at her seriously. "What's wrong, Diane?" He was concerned, worried. Ric had appeared in theatre and just told him to go to Diane, before walking out of the room briskly, his eyes red and tearful. Neither of them cried easily, not Ric nor Diane, for something to make them both cry… it must be serious.

She shook her head, biting her lip for a moment. "Was Ric very upset? Zube, have I upset him? I shouldn't have said anything, I didn't realise it would…"

Zubin cut her off, crossing around to her side of the desk and putting an arm across her shoulders. "Diane, calm down. Ric's fine, you know Ric, he'll never let on if he's upset." He allowed himself a smile in spite of his concern, hoping that his attitude would infect her and she would relax.

"Zubin, please, tell me, what did he say?" She was almost hysterical, staring down at her hands and not trusting herself to look up. "I never meant to upset him, truly I didn't, Zubin… I promise I didn't…"

Zubin stroked her hair gently. "Diane, I never thought for a moment that you would ever intentionally upset him. What's the matter with you two? Have you argued or something?"

She blinked several times, horrified to discover that her eyes were full of tears: not again. Not again, she couldn't cry again. She blinked hurriedly to rid herself of the tears, and looked up at Zubin, hoping that he wouldn't notice the brightness of her eyes, or the wetness of the lashes. "No, no… we've not argued." She looked down in defeat, feeling more tears pricking at the back of her eyes. 

He nodded, unsure of whether to push the issue and ask her again what the matter was. "Are you alright?" he settled for asking, watching her shoulders shake as she tried to contain the sobs that were fighting to get out.

Slowly, reluctantly, she allowed him to extract the details of her earlier conversation with Ric, and within twenty minutes, she had told him everything. When he had heard it all, she stared down at her hands, feeling relieved that the tears had stopped falling. She felt nothing any more. She just felt numb, numb with the knowledge of what might be happening to her, numb with fear at the consequences, numb with guilt that she had made Ric cry, numb. Just numb.

Zubin found himself standing up and looking at her, stunned. No, she couldn't… she couldn't have. It wasn't exactly that he thought she was invincible; he had enough sense to know that no one was. But she was Diane, she was so young. He felt dimly that she was expecting him to say something, so he stammered out the first thing that came into his mind. "No… Diane, you're so young…"

"I'm thirty next week." She didn't look up, her entire attention apparently focussed on a broken nail, but there was a tense note in her voice. "Zubin, you know as well as I do that age doesn't matter. It just means that it's not as likely, not that it's impossible."

He nodded. "I know that, Diane. But it's true, it's not as likely, you need to remember that there's a chance it's not – what you think it is," he finished, unable to say the word _cancer_. He wouldn't, he couldn't, say it to her. He couldn't let the word pass his lips, because saying it made it real – not only to her, but also to him. And discovering Diane's immortality, the chance that she might be so ill, meant that there was even more of a chance that bad things could happen to anyone. If Diane wasn't safe, then no one was. 

She appreciated his efforts, even though she could tell that he didn't even really believe it himself. And if he didn't, then there was no way that he could convince her. She smiled falsely. "Zube, I don't want to have any false hopes here." She looked up at him, and was shocked to see how upset he looked. 

"Well, I can certainly see why Ric was crying," he told her, trying to laugh off the tears that were forming in his eyes. 

She giggled nervously, feeling the tears pricking at her own eyes again. She allowed him to pull her into a hug, and smiled up at him. 

After a few moments, he pulled away, holding out a hand to help her up. "I'm taking you home," he told her, as he passed her her jacket. 

She shook her head, a sudden fear of being alone overwhelming her. "Please, Zubin, please, I don't want to go home by myself, I'm fine here…" She sat down again and picked up her pen. "I've got paperwork to do…"

He smiled. "You haven't, that's Ric's… and he probably wouldn't be too pleased if he knew you could forge his signature," he added, smirking as he looked at the last line of the form. 

She laughed. "I didn't, he'd signed that one before." She bit her lip. "But Zubin, I don't want to be alone, I'm fine here, really I am."

"Diane, I'm not going to abandon you," he reassured her. "I just don't think that you should be here, not today."

She nodded slightly. "Okay, fine. Just don't leave me alone with daytime TV, please," she added, trying to joke. She allowed herself to follow him out of the door, to get into his car, to be driven home, to let him into her flat, to sit in front of the television and make mindless small talk for hours. She let his comments wash over her, let herself drown in his friendship, and let herself try to immerse herself in anything but her problems.

She watched the clock, unsure of what she was waiting for, only knowing that she was waiting for something. He talked and she looked just past him, staring intently at the clock in the corner. Watching, waiting for anything to release her from the nightmare that she had found herself in. Why couldn't she wake up? Why couldn't she wake up a few months ago, with someone by her side to sing lullabies to her so that she fell asleep happily once more? 

She jumped up as though she had been scalded when the doorbell rang. Almost tripping over herself in her haste to get out of the room, out of the nightmare, she rushed to the door, fumbling with the lock in her hurry. She managed to wrench the door open, and bit her lip as she saw Ric standing there. "Ric…"

"Are you alright?" he asked her, producing a bunch of crimson roses from behind his back. "For you."

She smiled slightly. "Thanks. I'm fine… well, not fine, obviously… but okay." 

He smiled back at her. "I want you to know that I'm going to be here with you every step of the way," he told her, watching her face closely, and praying with every ounce of his strength that she would let him. He hugged her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and feeling her lay her head on his shoulder. She felt comforted, being in his arms. She forced herself to move as close to him as she could, staring all the time at the blood-red roses.


	6. Chapter 6

"Red roses, Ric?" Zubin asked, watching Diane walk into the kitchen, holding the flowers loosely in her arm.

Ric looked over at him, an innocent expression on his face. "I don't know what you're trying to suggest, Zubin, but I just bought those roses because Diane likes them. No ulterior motive." He knew that he'd gone red, and he knew that Zubin didn't believe him for a second.

"Whatever you say…" He shrugged, putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Ric sat down on the sofa across from Zubin, and tried to meet his look. "Zubin, I mean it. I'm not trying to suggest anything to her."

Zubin nodded. "Good."

Ric shot him a startled look. "What?" he asked, looking slightly insulted. Surely Zubin couldn't mean that the prospect of dating Diane was so awful? Surely they weren't so mismatched? He personally thought that they would be great together. He thought, believed, knew, that they would fit together, they did, they already had and they would again. It was fated, predestined.

"I didn't mean it like that, Ric." Zubin sighed. "I mean that neither of you are in a position to be starting a relationship right now."

"You think I don't know that?" Ric demanded, staring down at his hands. "I know that she's vulnerable and I'm not exactly the best guy to help her through this, but I just want to be there for her, okay? I don't want to take advantage of her or make her fall in love with me or anything like that. Got that, Zube? I care about her, I'm her _friend_. That's all."

"No, that's not all, is it? Ric, you think no one else in the world sees the way you look at that girl? Do you think that no one sees the way you act around her?" Zubin lowered his voice so that Diane wouldn't hear him from the kitchen. "She's twenty years younger than you."

Ric sighed, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. "Zubin, the age gap didn't bother me before and it doesn't bother me now." He looked up. "It just wasn't an issue."

"It's not like you had a serious relationship with her, age doesn't matter when it's just…" Zubin was beginning.

"Just…? Do not finish that sentence, Zubin." Ric's voice was icy, and his look could have killed. "I loved her, she loved me: we were in a serious relationship. Do you know that I proposed to her?" he added, coldly, looking straight at his friend.

"You proposed to her? To Diane?" Zubin was shocked: all he had known was that Ric and Diane had dated. Dating, that had just meant a bit of fun, Ric having a midlife crisis and dating a twenty three year old colleague. Maybe Zubin hadn't paid much attention; after all, this had been about the time that Mumtaz died. Evidently he had missed out on an important detail of Ric's life.

"Yes, to Diane." Ric looked back down at his hands. "I was head over heels in love with her and wanted to marry her. She said no, she moved away, I got on with life, then she came back and I realised how great she was again." He bit his lip, not wanting to say any more. He didn't want to say anything about how her laugh made him laugh too, how when she cried he died inside because he wanted so badly to be able to make her happy, about how just being around her made him feel wonderful, about… her.

Zubin shrugged slightly. "I'm sorry. I never realised."

"Yeah, well…" Ric didn't want to say that it was fine, because it wasn't. It was nowhere near fine that Zubin thought of them that way, thought of her that way. How could he think of Diane as just Ric's bit of fun? She had never been that, never ever. She had been his everything, had been and always would be.

"What are you two boys so deep in discussion about?" A falsely perky smile on her face, Diane stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, instantly commanding the attention of her friends. Zubin, looking at her, noted how young she looked; her hair fell about her face, her eyes looked sleepy and somewhat scared, and she looked as vulnerable as a child. Looking at her, he wondered how Ric could love her in that way.

Ric, holding out a hand, gesturing for her to sit next to him, took in all of those details and more. And the question running through his mind was different. How could anyone not love her?


	7. Chapter 7

She was seemingly unaware of Zubin's disapproving look as she sat down next to Ric and rested her head against his chest, wanting him to hold her and let her lose herself in him. And he was more than happy to provide her with that opportunity. His arm held her securely close to him, and she smiled up at him slightly. He smiled back at her; his eyes were telling her that he would be there forever, and her eyes thanked him.

Zubin, uncomfortable with the scene that he could see unfolding in front of him, stood up hurriedly. "I'd better get going, you two."

They both nodded, neither able to get up. Diane knew that it would have been polite to get up, but she was so tired, and so comfortable in Ric's arms. And he would not have moved her for the world. He simply nodded. "G'night Zube."

Zubin smiled at the two of them, managing to suppress his disapproval. "I'll see you tomorrow… well, maybe not you, Diane."

She shook her head without speaking, unsure of what to say. "'Night Zube," she said quietly.

He smiled at them again in farewell, before leaving the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He let himself out into the cold night air, still shocked about Diane, about how Ric had felt, about the way they looked at one another… about the two of them. He knew he might have been hasty, rude even, in his replies, but he hadn't been able to hide his feelings. He hadn't been able to hide the fact that he was astounded that Ric was even thinking about making a move on Diane. She was so young, she was so vulnerable… Zubin loved both Ric and Diane, Ric was like a brother to him, but Diane, she was like a niece: he'd always thought of Diane in much the same way as he did Jess.

He shook his head and opened his car door. Don't worry about it, he told himself. They can take care of themselves.

Diane's eyes had closed, and she was smiling slightly as Ric stroked her hair back from her face. She opened her eyes slowly to find him staring at her. "Hey…"

"Do you want me to go so you can sleep?" he asked her, hoping that she wouldn't say yes, that she would let him stay a bit longer, stay with her, with her in his arms. Because it felt magical to him, it was wonderful: _she_ was wonderful.

She shook her head, sitting up slightly and resting her head on his shoulder. "No, no, don't go… please," she added, more quietly. She didn't want to have to beg him. She didn't want to have to plead with him to stay with her, to save her, but she knew that if he went, part of her would go with him. She needed him to be there, to make her stronger. And right now, she needed to be stronger.

He nodded, stroking her hair back from her face again. "Okay, I won't." I'd never do anything you didn't want me to, he added mentally. I'd never hurt you, never.

She smiled up at him. Before her mind was allowed to know what she was saying, she spoke. "I'm scared, Ric." She heard the words in horror; she tried never to let herself to open up, because telling people about your feelings… that was when you got hurt, when you opened yourself up to humiliation.

"It's okay to be scared," he told her quietly.

"I'm terrified. I've never been more scared in all my life," she whispered. Her hand flew to her mouth and she clamped her fingers over her lips, trying to suppress the feelings that were tumbling out.

His hand gently clasped over her own and moved it away tenderly. "You need to talk about this, Diane… you can't bottle it all up."

"I'm not bottling anything up," she denied, feeling herself move away from him slightly.

"Diane…" he prompted her, one look being enough to make her cave. She moved closer to him again, and, taking strength from the strong arm around her, looked up at him.

"I'm scared, Ric…" she repeated. "I'm petrified of something happening, something going wrong. I'm scared of not being in control anymore. I'm afraid of dying, Ric. I don't want to die… not yet."

He tightened his grip around her, terrified of losing the young woman in his arms, terrified of her slipping away without saying goodbye, before he had said goodbye to her, before he had touched her, kissed her, told her he loved her, once more. "You're not going to die, Diane. I'm not going to let go of you that easy, darling."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Darling?" she repeated, eyebrow raised. "Since when did you call me that?"

He laughed slightly. "I don't know, it just seemed like the right word…" He smiled at her. "I'm sorry if you don't like it."

"No… no… I don't mind." She smiled up at him, her whole expression clearing for just a moment. And he had made that happen; he had reassured her, helped her to forget, for just one moment. A few precious seconds.

He kissed her forehead, stroking her hair as he did so, wanting so badly to make it all better for her.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath before speaking again. "Ric…" she began, quietly. "Ric, I need to ask you something." She felt sick to her stomach at the mere thought of voicing these words, at the mere thought of needing to ask him this, but she had to do it.

"Anything," he replied easily, moving a hand down to her back and holding her, cradling her like a child, a little girl who needed protecting from the harsh world. But looking into her face, he'd never seen her looking less like a child. Her face was serious, all the vulnerability hidden by a mask of determination, the determination to ask this question and get the right answer, knowing that it might prove her fate.

She sat up slightly, wanting him to realise that this was important. "Ric, this is… this is serious." She waited for him to nod, to give a sign that he understood how much it meant to her, and continued. "Whatever… whatever happens, with this…" She couldn't quite bring herself to say the word, and bit her lip for a second before continuing. "I'm going to need surgery. I know that."

His hand trembled slightly as he stroked her hair, nodding. "Yes," he replied quietly. "I'm afraid you are…"

"Ric, I know this is hard, if you want to get out now then I don't mind…" Her voice was steady, but she looked away from him, not wanting him to see the tears forming in her eyes.

"Diane, what sort of a friend would I be if I deserted you now? I don't want to 'get out', I want to help you through this," he told her, turning her head gently so that she could see the truth in his steady gaze.

She nodded. "I want you to help me…" she began, haltingly.

"What do you mean?" He felt a block of ice settle in the pit of his stomach, afraid of what she was going to ask, afraid it might be too much for him to handle.

"I mean… if…" She shook her head. "When, when I need surgery… I want you to do it." She looked down, not meeting his eyes, but continuing with what she was saying; knowing that if she didn't give her reasons, he would never agree. He had to know, had to understand, her reasoning. "Ric, please… I know it's a lot to ask, I know it's unfair on you, but I trust you. I trust you completely, and I know that you'd do the best you could, and…"

"Diane…" he interrupted, his voice quiet, still shocked. "Diane… you can't… you can't ask me to do that." He leant back slightly, staring at her, just watching her, taking in every detail, and thinking how beautiful she was. Thinking how innocent she looked, how perfect. How he couldn't take a knife anywhere near her.

She nodded. "I know, I know I'm being selfish… I just, I wouldn't feel safe with anyone else… because, Ric, you're the best surgeon I've ever known, I don't want…" She sighed. "I don't want to force you into this. I shouldn't have said anything."

A deep breath was all it took for him to change his mind. He didn't want her to be unhappy, he needed her happiness more than he needed his own comfort. He needed her to be safe, because with her safety came his safety. "Okay. I'll think about it, Diane…" He held her closely to him again, needing to feel her warmth, needing to know that he hadn't lost her yet.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8 

She woke up, comfortably conscious of the fact that she was lying in Ric's arms, that he was there and had been there all night. Not that anything had happened between them. Neither of them would have let their guard down that much. But they had slowly become tired, sitting on the sofa, and had eventually drifted off to sleep, curled up in each other's arms, in Diane's bed. It was comfortable and it was easy, and both were content to let that much happen between them.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she found herself facing him. His expression was sleepy, but when he saw her looking at him, he smiled. "Morning," he said, quietly.

"Morning yourself," she replied, suppressing a yawn with difficulty.

He kissed her forehead gently before sitting up. "Are you alright?" he asked her, stroking her hair away from her face, anxiety etched in every part of his face.

"I'm fine…" She shook her head slightly. "Well, not fine… but okay… considering." She sat up as well, and leant against him, smiling up at him. "It's nice to not have to wake up by myself," she told him quietly.

He kissed her hair gently. "You don't have to… I'll stay here as long as you want me to," he assured her, putting one arm around her.

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't mean that." She fiddled with a button on her nightie, determinedly not looking at him. "You'd be gone the moment you got a better offer, Ric. The moment a woman offered to let you sleep in her bed in a less innocent sense, you'd be gone."

"Diane… you don't really think that, do you?" He tilted her chin up so that she had to look at him.

"Well, wouldn't you?" she countered. "If you had a choice between listening to me moaning and asking you to operate on me, or going out and actually having some fun with someone, what would you choose?"

He stroked her hair. "Diane, I'm sorry you think that." He swallowed slightly before speaking. "I'd choose you over anyone. And I mean that," he added, before she had a chance to dispute that. "I'd choose you over any other woman… you mean an awful lot to me, you know that?"

She kissed his cheek gently. "You're so sweet," she told him, watching his expression intently. She saw his face fall slightly. "Was that… was that not what you wanted me to say?" she queried, hesitantly.

He laughed. "Can you read me that well?" he said, trying to hide his disappointment with a rueful laugh. He tightened his grip around her slightly.

"Maybe that sounded wrong…" She leant her head on his chest. "I didn't mean to sound dismissive or anything… you mean a lot to me too…" She smiled at him.

That wasn't what I meant, he wanted to tell her. I meant that I love you, that I can't imagine my life without you, that I would never leave you… He sighed and nodded, stroking her hair again. He watched her closely, and forced a smile in case she was watching him.

"Do you have to work today?" she asked, quietly, hoping that the answer would be no, and hoping that he would be able to stay with her all day, stay with her and allay her fears, keep her sane.

"I've not got a very full list… I could delegate if you want me here…" he offered, more than prepared to do so. He rolled over in the bed and picked up his mobile from the floor, next to his wallet. "I'll call Zubin and tell him I won't be in."

"Ric, no, I can't make you do that…" She wanted to, though. She wanted so badly to be able to have the strength, the courage, to ask him to stay with her, but she knew that she couldn't. Peoples' lives would be on the line if he didn't go into work. This was one day, and she wasn't important enough to ask him to be with her for that one day.

"You're not making me do anything." His voice was firm but caring, and he looked as though he loved her… She shook her head slightly, wondering where that thought had come from. Love just didn't come into the equation, not right now. She really did not want to focus on relationships now. Not that she ever had. The only long-term relationships she had had in her life had left her shattered, left her drained. Either shattered by the abuse, drained from the emotional abuse and exhausted from the physical pain, or shattered by the feeling of being without the person she had come to rely on so much in her life. She had walked out of the abusive relationship, shutting the door behind her firmly. But she had never left the other one. He was still with her, all the time.

She nodded, feeling close to tears at that thought. "Thank you," she whispered, as she watched him dial Zubin's number.

"Zubin… it's me…" One of his arms encircled her, and he kissed her hair while he listened to Zubin's reply. "Yes, I'm still at Diane's… what business of yours is that?" His voice had risen slightly, and Diane edged away, not liking the annoyed tone. Ric stroked her hair reassuringly before standing up and going into the hallway, not wanting Diane to hear the conversation.

"So you slept with her then?" Zubin wasn't so much asking, as stating a fact.

Ric bit his lip for a moment, trying to quell his anger. "I slept in her bed. I didn't have sex with her. Not that it's any of your business, Zube."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"What? You think Diane's going to hurt me?" He didn't care that his voice had risen loud enough for Diane to hear him; he didn't care about anything other than getting his point across to Zubin. "No one's going to be hurting anyone, because we are just friends, okay?"

"What's the matter?" Ric whirled around to see Diane standing in the doorway, her face anxious.

Ric put his hand over the phone. "Just Zubin being stupid." He spoke to Zubin again. "Zubin, I'm not coming in today. Can you get someone to see to my list for me?"

"Why aren't you coming in?" Zubin asked, suspiciously.

"Diane wants me to stay here…" Ric sighed as he heard Zubin's disapproval radiating over the phone as clearly as if he had spoken. "Zubin Khan, if you value your life, you won't say anything."

"I just…" Zubin's reply was cut off as Ric jabbed the end call button.

"What's up with him?" Diane asked, walking over to Ric.

"Nothing…" Ric sighed. Diane's look told him that that wasn't enough of an answer. "Zubin has… ideas… about you and I."

"Ideas…?" she prompted. When he remained silent, she shrugged. "You mean as in the spending last night doing something a lot less innocent sense? He thinks we're sleeping together?"

"Sort of…" He hesitated. "He also thinks that we're both going to end up getting hurt if we do go down that road."

"What does he know?" A feeling of indignation was bubbling up inside of her: how dare Zubin jump to conclusions? How dare he think that he knew her feelings, Ric's feelings? "What right does he have…?"

"None." He crossed the hallway towards her and touched her arm gently. "None. He's talking rubbish, so ignore him."

"Doesn't it – doesn't it bother you? People talking?" she asked, quietly, taking the opportunity to ask something she had wanted to know for a long time. Ric never seemed to mind what people thought, he was so different to her. She hated to think that people were talking about her, hated that when people looked at her, they saw a different woman to the one she saw in the mirror every morning. She didn't want them to look. It was fine if they left her alone.

"I'm not going to lie and say it doesn't," he replied, smiling slightly. "But Diane, you and I know the truth. If Zubin's got nothing better to do than think up dramas about our lives, then that's his problem."

"I guess."  She wasn't convinced. People talking… that was why she had done it all. Why she hadn't married him, fear of what people would say: a young registrar marrying a man twenty or more years her senior. A rich man. It was why she had had a termination. People gossiping about her, carrying a dead man's child, how awful for her, whispers in the corridors, always there. Her baby having to grow up with a dead man for a father. If it had been anything like her, it wouldn't have coped. Why she hadn't let him move in with her, why she hadn't let him kiss her in that corridor… it all came down to other people. Their expectations of her, their views of her. Of them.

"If it bothers you, Diane, I'll talk to him about it, try and get him to shut his mouth for once," Ric offered, stroking her arm gently.

She shook her head. "I don't… I don't want to make a fuss." She bit her lip slightly. "He's going to have a big problem with that favour I asked, isn't he?"

"That's not his business either," he told her. "It's not like you're asking him, and it's not like there's any official rule saying I can't do it." Unfortunately. He had lain awake most of the night, desperately trying to think of a reason as to why he couldn't do it. He didn't want to take a knife to her perfect skin; he didn't want to do anything that might hurt her. But they had never been married, and there was no official relationship between them to prevent him from having to do it.

She nodded, fully aware of his train of thought. "I am sorry," she said, quietly.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "Look, I know you – you probably don't want to think about this, but… when do you want it to… well, when would you rather it…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say is…"

She cut him off. "As soon as you can do it," she interrupted. "I just want to get it over with and out of the way."

He began thinking through his schedule for the week, desperately trying to think of a timeslot where he could fit her in… and not a hurried early-morning or last minute time either. He didn't want to rush her. "I… I could fit you in the day after tomorrow…" he said, slowly, thinking of his free afternoon.

She felt herself falling, and grabbed onto the wall to support herself. "Okay." It was so soon. She'd said as soon as he could do it, but she hadn't thought… no. Not that quick. It was major surgery, major surgery with major risks. She'd thought she would have more time to prepare.

"Diane… that is okay with you, isn't it?" he asked, tentatively.

"Fine, fine, yeah!" She knew she sounded too hasty, but she had no control over it. She moved away slightly. "I need to… go…" She gestured towards the bathroom door, and stumbled towards it, slamming the door behind her and sinking to the floor the instant it was shut.

"Diane, are you alright?" he asked, anxiously.

She wanted to shout out that she wasn't, of course she wasn't, she probably had cancer and was depending on her best friend, on him, to save her life. But instinct changed her reply before it left her mouth. "I'm fine…" she said, listlessly. "Just fine."

She closed her eyes, blocking out everything but the sound of him outside, wanting to make sure she was alright. She closed her eyes and she prayed, prayed like she had never done before. Please God, please don't let me die.


	9. Chapter 9

"You've not left your oven on, have you?" Zubin checked, as Diane stepped out of the door, and fumbled for her keys.

"Zubin, if I remember rightly, you were the last person to use my oven, when you insisted on making yourself a toasted cheese sandwich," she replied. "So really, I should be asking you."

He laughed. "Sorry. In that case, it's definitely not on." He picked up her overnight bag from the floor where she had placed it, and put an arm around her.

She smiled up at him slightly and pulled her jacket tightly around her. "I really don't want to do this, Zubin," she told him quietly, the smile vanishing the moment she'd spoken. She knew what she wanted wasn't the issue right now. She wanted none of this, but she had it. The only thing she wanted was for it to go away. And the only way for that to happen was to go along with this, to get it sorted as quickly as possible so she could start living again. Because this wasn't living.

"I know," he replied, hugging her briefly. "I know."

She pulled away from the hug. "S'pose we better get going." She smiled falsely. "Let's get this over with," she added, walking off.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, nevertheless following her. He bit his lip. "Stupid question, I know. I'm sorry."

She shook her head, not turning back to look at him. "Considering the circumstances, I'm fine." She debated asking him to drop it, but, deciding that would be rude, settled for saying nothing further. She reflected that she preferred Ric's questions to Zubin's. She preferred the way Ric asked her how she was, how he seemed to truly care, much more so than Zubin. When Zubin asked… yeah, he was being nice and caring. But when Ric asked, he sounded as though something depended on the answer. He truly wanted her to be alright.

The drive to the hospital was mostly in silence, neither of them sure what to say. Zubin was trying to summon the courage to broach the subject of Ric, and Diane was preoccupied by nerves, terrified about the surgery, about the risks, about what might go wrong, about how this was serious. Very serious.

They were almost at the hospital when Zubin cleared his throat. "Diane…" he began, hesitantly.

"Yeah?" She looked up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so.

"I need to talk to you…" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was telling himself that this wasn't a good idea. She was worried already, she was frantic, and this was certainly not the time to be having an in depth conversation with her.

"Uh-oh, that sounds ominous!" There was a forced smile on her face, a forced laugh in her voice. It was obvious that she wanted to hide how she was feeling, hide behind the mask of playfulness, flirtation, her usual façade. The façade everyone was used to by now.

"It's not…" he said, slowly, casting a quick look at her. "I want to talk to you about Ric." He turned his eyes back to the road, so that he couldn't see her reaction.

"Ric?" she repeated, her expression clouding over instantly. "Oh?" She had no plans to make this easy for him. If he wanted to come interfering in her private business, then she was not going to let him have an easy ride.

He almost shuddered at the icy tone in her voice. "You and he…" he began, tentatively.

"Are adults who are responsible for our own behaviour, feelings, and whatever else you might want to interfere with," she interrupted, anger coursing through her. "Zubin, whatever you're going to say, I don't think I really want to hear it. My relationship with Ric is none of your business!"

"You're my friends…" he started to say.

"You're not acting much like a friend!" Zubin had stopped the car by now, but Diane made no effort to get out.

"I don't want to see either of you get hurt, I care a lot about both of you…"

"Neither of us are going to get hurt. You think I'd willingly hurt him?" She looked annoyed; she _was_ annoyed, annoyed at the thought that Zubin thought she would ever hurt Ric.

"I don't think you'd do it willingly…" Zubin shook his head. "Forget it, I'm sorry I said anything… I just don't think either of you are at the right point in your lives right now for a relationship." And that was it. He wasn't trying to be mean, to be cruel, insensitive, whatever else they believed him to be. He just had no idea how the two of them could work at a relationship as well as work through their individual problems right now. He was also uncomfortably aware of the fact that if Ric and Diane became a couple, then he would be very much left out. They would have each other… Kath had Larry… even Rosie and Mubbs had each other. Who he did have? A fleeting affair with a married woman, a few nights with a call girl, various flirtations that had never amounted to anything.

Diane sighed. "We're not in a relationship." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "But… thanks for your concern. I guess." She shook her head slightly and, tightening her grip on her bag, opened the car door. "I can't… I can't talk about this anymore. Okay?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry I said anything, Diane."

"I'm just sorry you feel like that." She got out of the car and closed the door slightly harder than perhaps was necessary, biting back extra retorts. Clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white, she began to walk up to the hospital. She heard Zubin following her, but neither of them spoke, both aware of this new barrier between them.

As she reached the ward, she hung back slightly, and turned around to see Zubin behind her. "I can't do this, Zubin…"

He shook his head. "You can." As Ric appeared from his office, Zubin nodded towards him. "Ric. Tell Diane she can do this."

Ric crossed the corridor towards her and put an arm around her. "You can do this." He turned to Zubin. "Zube, Will wants to see you about something… some vendetta against Connie…"

Zubin grimaced. "Okay…" He smiled slightly at Diane. "You'll be fine. I'll see you soon."

She nodded. "Thanks Zube." She forced a smile before turning away, trying to avoid Ric's glance.

"Let's get you into a bed," he said, sounding falsely cheery. He didn't want to let on to her how much he was dreading the coming operation. How much he had lain awake the night before, still at her flat, with her in his arms, praying for something to come up meaning that he wouldn't have to do it. Praying for emergencies, for nightmares, for anything… anything to spare him. Spare her.

After he had got her settled, changed into a gown and sitting up in a hospital bed, he sat down next to her and put an arm around her. "I'm not going to go through everything with you," he told her, referring to the usual talk he gave to patients. "I think you know what's going to happen."

She nodded, a faint smile edging its way onto her face. "I do. Just do what you have to."

"I will," he promised her, pulling her into a hug.

She half-knelt on the bed, trying desperately to be closer to him, to lose herself in him. The what ifs were flooding through her mind, what if he couldn't remove it, what if something went wrong, what if she died, what if these were her last living moments…? She felt herself begin to shake with the tears that were forcing their way out, regardless of how much she wanted to keep it in, wanted to put on a brave face.

He felt her begin to cry, and stroked her hair gently, trying not to cry himself. This was too hard. This was Diane, his best friend, and he couldn't do this. He couldn't be responsible for getting her through this. Not like this. Because he could lose her. And he couldn't lose her; he couldn't lose her. Not yet. "You're going to be okay," he whispered, not knowing if she could hear him. "I'm not letting you go this easily…"

She moved away from him slightly, to face him. The tears in his eyes shocked her; she had never expected to see that. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry to make you do this…" she whispered.

"You're not making me do anything…" He felt a tear trickle down his cheek, and blinked hurriedly to rid himself of the rest. "I want to do this for you…"

She smiled through her tears, and wiped away his own with her thumb. "Thank you…"

"It's okay…" And he was crying, holding onto her for support, when he knew it should have been the other way around. He knew that he shouldn't be doing this to her. But all he knew was her. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't be responsible for her, he didn't dare… what if he lost her, what if he lost her through his own fault…?

"You… you don't have to do it…" she said, haltingly, reluctantly.

"I do… of course I have to…" He choked back the sobs and looked at her. "I'm gonna get you through this, I promise you."

"I know." She smiled at him, looking into the eyes that she had seen millions of times before, but never quite like this. Never so sad before. Never so fearful. Never. She stroked his cheek again, wiping more of his tears away.

He was mesmerised by her. He had never looked at her, never seen her, quite like this before. He forced himself to believe that this wasn't his last chance. She would be back, he would bring her back, he would get her through it.

She leaned in to kiss him, conscious only of the fact that it seemed the right thing to do, seemed the only way she could tell him how much he meant to her, how grateful she was, how fearful that this was her last chance… no. It wasn't. And this wasn't a kiss goodbye.


End file.
